its not stalking. its research.
I'm sorry for coming into your work place and trying to smuggle you out in my purse.
Our dealer is pledging my frat. When he come to sell me weed I make him take out the garbage.
I love you, but you should know I'll always ditch you for weed.
Some guy in lab is humming along to a Sara Barrilles song. Or maybe I'm just hearing the song echoing in his huge, gaping vagina.
Either I'm paranoid or I swear my parents rigged my house so you can never sneak in or have the munchies without being loud.
It's a strange mix of shame and pride every time I pee at the bar and still see my lipstick on the bathroom wall...
But see that's the thing. I know i'm better looking than you, I just want you to be continually in a state of shock and awe that you could ever get a girlfriend this hot. You know?
I ACCIDENTALLY HOOKED UP WITH A GUY WHO HAS A NICHOLAS CAGE POSTER ABOVE HIS BED I CANT HANDLE LIFE.
The universe is either telling you 1. you make terrible decisions or 2. its time to let go of your hatred of Cage.
He still texted me and invited me over a day later so I guess I'm the lovable kind of psycho
Just had my butthole waxed. If that changes your plans for Saturday..
Let us rub each other in fish scales and become mermaids
He was awesome with her today. I can't say that it didn't make my Fallopian tubes sing "The Hills Are Alive."
He's throwing Skittles into my cleavage and some are rebounding into my crouch.
Well he's scoring either way then.
This is your post bachelor party survival text. This a free and complementary service to make sure you are still alive. For alive, say yes. For hurting, say ugh. If lost, say help. If dead, please feel free to not respond. Thank you and we hope you enjoyed the party.
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